


State of Grace

by Esta Camille Lupin (edye327)



Series: I'll Be Loving You [10]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Sopheus, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9698798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edye327/pseuds/Esta%20Camille%20Lupin
Summary: 1927, 1936, and 1943.1. He catches the edge of her jaw and briefly strokes his thumb along the curve of her cheek. Before she can respond, he gives a courteous bow and hightails it.2. "Although Mum never said a word, I knew she was hoping every day that I might find someone. Well,” he says bitterly, “I did. Just not the right person."3. Three weeks later, Daniella Griffiths-Scamander has a new home.Set in theThen Will My Love Linger Onuniverse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to try to incorporate Theseus’s backstory into TWMLLO, but I like that I did it this way instead. There are parts I’m still forced to leave out until I can post the last chapter of [_Will I Wait a Lonely Lifetime_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9453746/chapters/21388643) but I’ll fill in the blanks eventually, I promise.
> 
> Lyrics are from Taylor Swift's "State of Grace." I always found the song beautiful to listen to, and it captures the sort of fragility of love (both Theseus and Daniel's and Theseus and Sophia's).
> 
> Note: although technically the ball took place when Sophia and Theseus didn't know each other that well yet, I'm gonna just push the envelope feelings-wise :P
> 
> So, in honor of Valentine’s Day, while we’re on the topic of love, I decided to treat y’all to this. Enjoy my mission to make you ship Sopheus.

**1927**

_**Scamander Island Ball** _

(picks up after [chapter 53](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21313337) of TWMLLO)

~*~

_You come around and the armor falls_

_Pierce the room like a cannonball_

_~*~_

Sophia heads back to the manor with a satisfied grin on her face. Seeing Newt and Tina happy honestly makes _her_ happy, as cheesy and altruistic as it sounds. She doesn’t expect to be in that type of relationship anytime soon; might as well live vicariously through the two of them. Besides, she can only hope that any relationship she has won’t start out as chaotically as theirs.

When she steps in, the professional band has been replaced by a group of amateur young musicians playing lively music. Although Sophia is exhausted and seriously considering bed already, these guys are _good,_ and so she lingers by the wall, tapping her foot to the beat. The men who had surrounded her earlier have left, thank god.

Theseus appears out of nowhere, making her jump. He holds out his hand grandly.

“Shall we?” he asks.

Sophia looks at him dubiously. “What about the women you were dancing with?”

He shrugs and nods at the dance floor. “Come on.”

She hesitates, then shrugs as well and follows him to the middle of the banquet hall.

“You're even taller than Newt,” she observes as they position themselves. His hand on her waist feels strangely protective.

“Only by two inches,” he says defensively. They fall into step together. “Have you never danced before now?”

She raises an eyebrow incredulously. “D’you think _I_ grew up having balls and owning an island?”

“You are quite good,” he tells her. “Although perhaps we are simply good together. It does take two to tango,” he adds, smiling.

“Jeepers, take all the credit, wouldja?” Sophia teases him. “But sure. We’re just good together.”

When she glances up, he's gazing at her in an inexplicable, intense yet soft (almost tender?) way that makes her feel quite warm.

“Um… thanks anyway,” she stammers, suddenly shy. He seems to tighten his grip on her as they move fluidly across the floor.

“I see you let the two lovebirds have the guest house,” he observes.

Sophia scoffs. “I mean, they basically live together. Thought I might as well make it official. It's not like you guys don't have enough room here.”

Theseus chuckles. “Very true. Well, then. How was your first Scamander Island ball?”

“I didn’t really have any expectations going in,” she replies. “It was pretty fun, though.”

Theseus looks pleased, but doesn’t say anything. They spend the rest of the dance in comfortable silence, both of them equally worn out. Dancing with Theseus is quite different from dancing with his brother. On the one hand, it should stand to reason — they are two very distinct personalities — but on the other, Theseus is as much her brother as Newt. Right?

And yet she kind of enjoys this a lot more. But that’s probably because he’s a better dancer, or something.

Probably.

The dance ends, and Theseus seems to falter before letting his arms fall, hand slipping out of her grasp. “Thank you,” he says gallantly.

“For what?” she asks, taken aback. They move towards the periphery of the hall.

He shrugs. “For being there.”

“Are people not usually there?”

He just looks at her for a long moment. “Not like you are,” he finally responds, and moves to pat her on the head, as he and Newt are wont to do. However, this time he catches the edge of her jaw and briefly strokes his thumb along the curve of her cheek. Before she can respond, he gives a courteous bow and hightails it.

That was weird.

“You're so lucky,” one woman tells Sophia, cutting into her inner monologue.

“Thanks?” Sophia says, nonplussed.

“Vanessa,” the lady introduces herself. “And you’re Sophia?”

How does she know her name? “Yep,” Sophia confirms somewhat awkwardly.

Vanessa drums her fingers on the stem of her wine glass thoughtfully. Then she turns to Sophia and explains, “Theseus has been the sought-after eligible bachelor of Scamander Island ever since we were kids. You probably just broke a lot of hearts.” She doesn’t appear to possess one of those hearts, but she also doesn’t scrutinize Sophia with excess warmth.

“Broke — _what?_ He's still an ‘eligible bachelor,’” Sophia says in confusion.

The woman looks taken aback. “Are the two of you not dating?”

Sophia feels her face go red. “No! What — no, we would never. He's like my brother. It's… no. We aren't.”

“Oh.” Vanessa considers this for a moment, then tilts her head. “Really?”

Why oh why did Theseus have to touch her like that? “Mmhm,” she replies in what she hopes is a convincing tone.

Based on Vanessa’s expression, it isn’t. However, the other woman lets it go. “My sister will be thrilled,” she says airily. “Thank you for the clarification.”

“You’re welcome… okay then,” Sophia says disgruntledly as Vanessa brushes past her, as though they weren’t even having a conversation.

She has half a mind to track the war hero down and yell at him, demand to know why on earth he would ask her to dance and then _not_ pat her on the head condescendingly, because that just made things potentially _weird_ between her and her only friend on the island. And Newt and Tina don’t count; they’re basically her brother and sister-in-law. Except Theseus is supposed to be her brother too… Sophia groans and buries her head in her hands. Maybe she can find Elsie.

“I see you met Vanessa,” Theseus says, coming over to her. He’s acting normal. Good. That’s good. How many times has Sophia had to order Newt and Tina to act normal?

Sophia raises an eyebrow. “‘Eligible bachelor’?” She snorts.

“Oh, bother,” Theseus groans. “Did she give you the talk?”

“What talk?”

He jerks his head towards the adjoining hallway, which leads to the million rooms of the manor. “It is midnight, and I am exhausted,” he informs her. She follows him happily. “Vanessa is quite the fan of defending her sister, Lucy, who has harbored a relentless crush on me since we were toddlers.”

“Ew,” Sophia comments. “You’d think she woulda given up by now, right?”

Theseus sighs. “Women can be very persistent.”

“I’m not,” Sophia decides.

Theseus stops and looks at her in disbelief. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? Sophie, you are the _definition_ of persistent.”

“I’m so not!” she protests.

“The level of stubbornness you have displayed in our short time together rivals that of my friend’s two-year-old son.”

“Well, his two-year-old son is probably super patient and non-persistent,” Sophia retorts.

He gestures to another long hallway. “Newton, I am sure, would happily provide testimonials to back up my claim.”

“Well _Newton_ isn’t here right now, and a woman is always right,” Sophia counters.

He feigns shock. “Oho! Has somebody given into gender roles? Ought I begin opening doors and sliding out chairs for you?”

“No,” she says heatedly, although she knows when she’s beat. “It’s not like _that.”_

“So a young woman can wear men’s clothes all she wants — that dress _is_ very becoming, by the way — and rebuff any chivalrous attention, but she is also always right, in the way as nagging housewives are known to be.”

“I’m not a nagging housewife —”

“So then you are not always right.” He pats her on the head this time. “I think you have lost this one.”

“It isn’t a matter of winning and losing,” Sophia grumbles. Theseus looks warmly at her, then opens a door.

“There is a room next door,” he says, “but if you would still like company and perhaps a convivial nightcap…”

“Sure,” she agrees, and bounces into his room. It’s smaller than she would have expected, him being Scamander royalty, but suits him. There’s a definite rustic vibe, with medals hung on the wall — fairly inconspicuously, despite his being so revered — and an old combat uniform in a glass display.

Much to her delight, there are also family photos lining the space above his desk: a toothy, freckle-faced, completely geeky child Newt smiles uncomfortably at her from the shoreline. Elsie was beautiful as a young woman; the resemblance between her and her youngest son in particular is much more noticeable in these photos.

Theseus watches Sophia from where he’s unbuttoning his multiple outer garments and laying them over the back of a chair. When she glances over at him, he smiles at her, hands gently loosening his tie.

“That’s Dad,” he says quietly, nodding to a framed photograph resting atop a pile of papers. “He died when I was five. Newt was only a year old.”

“You look a lot like him,” Sophia observes. Although the man appears as lanky as Newt, he’s somehow simultaneously broad-shouldered, with a wider smile and wiry ginger hair. “Were you close?”

Theseus shrugs. “He wasn’t around very much anyway. He worked at the Ministry, actually, so he was constantly traveling back and forth. I ended up being a bit of a mummy’s boy.” He grins. “In my defense, she was and is a wonderful mother.”

“Yeah.” Sophia thinks of her own mother. Emilia is the bee’s knees, really, but Sophia feels a little guilty admitting that she feels more connected to Elsie already than her actual mom. She was such an independent girl growing up, with a traveling father and a working mother, that she didn’t form attachments whatsoever, including to her own parents. In fact, she didn’t form attachments in general until she met Newt and got swept up in their (often dysfunctional) family.

The thought sends a pang of homesickness through her: not for George and Emilia, but for Queenie and Jacob. Even Seraphina.

“Are you alright?” Theseus asks softly.

“Mm? Yeah, fine,” she lies.

He obviously doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t press her either. “I am quite a good listener, just so you know.”

“So am I,” she returns, smiling. “Bit of a talker, too.”

“That would be the understatement of the century,” Theseus affirms.

She makes a face at him, then sits beside him on the bed. “So, what d’you wanna do?”

He pulls out a deck of Exploding Snap cards. “Loser has to visit Poppy the next time she ‘needs help’ with something. Which she does nearly every other day.”

Sophia grins: a suitable punishment. “It’s a deal,” she says, and shakes his hand.

~*~

_We fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds_

_Or fades in time..._

* * *

**1936**

**_Christmas Eve, New York  
_ **

_~*~_

_We learn to live with the pain_

_Mosaic broken hearts_

~*~

It’s late, it’s Theseus’s last day in New York, and he and Sophia have been somewhat generous with the Firewhisky.

Cassie is safely in bed; Sophia’s husband has been forced to work a graveyard shift. Which leaves nothing but Sophia and Theseus and a fireplace.

And the truth.

The past three months of Theseus’s leave have been surprisingly comfortable. Despite the initial awkwardness in their interactions, he and Sophia have fallen back into an easy friendship. Theseus mostly spends his days helping with the Scamander and Kowalski kids. Newt and Tina have officially set May as their departure date to move to England with Ally and Graham; as a result, there’s been a bit of a frenzy as Tina arranges a transfer to the Ministry of Magic and Newt tries to figure out what to do about his rehabilitation center.

Sophia has been somewhat conservative when it comes to Theseus spending time with Cassie. He snorted slightly at her name — Cassiopeia Porpentina — after Sophia admitted that she was intentionally sadistic about it. But Tina got a namesake, and “Cassie” is a perfectly acceptable nickname, so it’s justified.

They skirt the topic of what could be considered “the good old days.” In fact, they skirt _several_ topics which could bring unwarranted memories to the surface. Instead, they joke around, chat about the woes of the world, and Sophia even brings out a faded deck of Exploding Snap cards. With a mischievous smile, she asks if he remembers the rules to [the game they’d invented nearly a decade ago now](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9240317/chapters/21821468).

Much to their surprise, they both do. She has to cast a Muffling Charm halfway through due to the combination of explosions and uncontrollable laughter that ensue.

After their raucous, rather immature game ends, they pour some Firewhisky and sit in separate armchairs before the fireplace. A comfortable quiet hangs between them in spite of their mutual silence as they both get lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, out of nowhere, Theseus states, “Daniel.”

Sophia looks up at him, startled. “What?”

He sighs and puts his glass down. “My first love.”

_“What?”_

“I am…” He takes a deep breath. It’s almost 1940. Sophia orchestrated a lesbian wedding in 1927. He has nothing to lose. “Bisexual,” he confesses. “It… took a long time to figure it out, but it is what it is.” He pauses, staring down at his hands. “I know what you must be thinking —” he begins, but Sophia cuts him off.

“Wait, I wanna hear about this Daniel.” Although she doesn’t say it in as many words, her message is clear as day. _It’s okay._

“Daniel Griffiths,” Theseus says quietly, and can’t help but flinch. He hasn’t heard, said, or seen the name in years. “He was a soldier. One of the wizarding soldiers that the Ministry and MACUSA sent to fight alongside Muggles in the hopes of protecting them.

“He was new. We got along well from the start.” _Like us._ “We spent weeks training together. He was from a poor family, and the kindest man I’ve ever met.”

“Okay. That’s… wow, okay,” Sophia says. Then she smirks. “Was he cute?”

Theseus laughs softly, gives a lopsided smile. “Very.”

“How old was he?”

“My age. He was American, or else we would have been in school together.”

“Swell. Continue,” Sophia encourages him, leaning forward and resting her hand on her chin.

“I had always felt pressure to fall in love and settle down. Particularly with Scamander Island and Newt being… well, he was a bit of a wild card. But I was the sought-after ‘eligible bachelor’ and although Mum never said a word, I knew she was hoping every day that I might find someone.

“Well,” he says bitterly, “I did. Just not the right person.

“What I felt for Daniel — what we felt for each other — was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Perhaps the urgency of the war, which naturally induced a great deal of sentimentality and emotion, contributed. But I never thought so.

“It was a raid,” he says gratingly. “Clear daylight, and we were prepared. We thought we knew where their entire army was, and we were fighting a good fight, except they had a handful of soldiers lying in wait. Daniel saw one first, sneaking up on me from behind. He was meters away, but he shouted out and — breaking all of the rules, a transgression that could have landed him in prison — Apparated to shield me right as the soldier shot.

“It happened in less than ten seconds. And he was gone.

“I killed for the first time. I used an Unforgivable Curse. I…” His voice breaks and he blinks back tears. He has never relived this, never told anyone about it except empty shadows in the middle of a night, in a bunk, alone. “Daniel was the only person I had. I loved him with all my heart. And he had died to protect me.

“They had to Obliviate the entire troop. But it was over, and we won.

“All I could dream of for years was his body hitting the ground. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t scream. He just did it. Like Newt, I suppose.

“My anguish was twofold. I grieved his death, although he had nobody but a 15-year-old sister back home. They were orphaned, impoverished. But more than that, I mourned the loss of someone who loved me in a way I believed nobody else could. And whom I loved with such intensity, and such joy, I feared I would never find that again.

“I fought ten times harder after his death. Nobody knew about our relationship. They thought we were good friends, and I made certain nobody found out.

“It was not because I cared about my reputation. At that point I cared only about revenge. But I did not want to tarnish his good name.” He buries his head in his hands then, overwhelmed with the memories and awash with pain. “He was a good man,” he whispers bleakly. “And I will always love him.”

“I’m sorry, Theseus,” Sophia murmurs, leaning over and resting her hand on his.

“Thank you,” he says.

“So that’s how come you were never into Lucy, huh?” Sophia quips, lightening the mood as only she can.

Theseus can’t help but smile. “One of the reasons.” _The other reason was you._

Sophia stiffens suddenly and pulls her hand away at lightning speed. He hadn’t said it out loud, but leave it to Sophia to read between the lines. After all, she was the first to bring it up, years ago — that he’d been in love during the war.

He glances up above the mantelpiece and sees the family picture they’d sent on their Christmas card. Cassie is the spitting image of Sophia. “So when will he be home?” he asks, gesturing to her husband in the photo. _When do I have to leave?_

“Not for hours. Probably three or four o’clock.”

“Ah,” he acknowledges. “Perhaps I ought to go now.”

“No,” Sophia says sharply, then blushes slightly. “Stay.”

“Miss Ollerton, are you worried about burglars?” he teases her. Sophia, of course, defiantly kept her maiden name when she got married. Theseus secretly appreciates it.

“Do I look like I can protect myself?” she asks indignantly.

“Don’t forget, I have seen you in combat,” he points out. “You can certainly hold your own.”

That final battle… he doesn’t have the words to describe it. Those last seconds ticking down, all the survivors with their wands aloft, the worshipful hush of the battlefield despite the dead bodies scattered around them. Sophia had reached for his hand then, and, her being left-handed and he right, did not let go.

“I keep telling you, it wasn’t me, it was my wand!” she insists.

“No,” he shakes his head, “it was absolutely you.”

“Maybe my wand’s just extraordinary, I dunno. I haven’t been able to pull off that kinda magic since.”

“Maybe you are just extraordinary.” He cringes the moment the words leave his mouth.

Sophia doesn’t stiffen this time. Instead, he follows her gaze to the clock: it’s 12:01 am. “Merry Christmas, Theseus,” she says softly.

He inclines his head, watching her tenderly as flames dance across both of their faces and their Firewhisky glasses sit, empty, on the table between them. “Happy Christmas, Sophie.”

_~*~_

_These are the hands of fate_

_You're my Achilles heel_

* * *

  **1943**

**_Home_ **

_~*~_

_This is a state of grace_

_This is the worthwhile fight_

_~*~_

The letter comes in the middle of dinner. It’s battered and addressed in shaky, barely intelligible handwriting. The rain outside has rendered the paper so thin it threatens to break.

Theseus performs a quick drying spell, then unfolds the note. It's riddled with spelling errors and ink blots, and as soon as he reads the first line he has to sit down.

_Dear Mr. Scamander,_

_You dont know me but Daniel Griffiths was my uncle. Im his only niece. His sister had me in 1921. She died on acount of alkohall poisening after i was born. I aint never got skooling but I learnt what i cud._

_I got sick a year ago. Im dying, mr. Scamander. The docters say I aint got even a month too live._

_Thing is. I got a little girl. Her name is Daniella, after my uncle. Shes almost fore years old. I was 19 when I had her and She was borne outof wedlock. Her dad left. I aint got noboddy but the guverment will take her away from me._

_Danny loved you more then anything. You wer his 1st &only love. He wrote my mom a letter rite bfore he died. He sed he found sumone. He thout the 2 of you wud win the war and come home and take careof us. but if you didn't he wanted my mom to know he was happy in the end. _

_Relly happy._

_I dont know if youll get this. The owls round here are old and not to smart. But Im despirit._

_Alls Im asking is if you wud take Dani for a few mos. at most. I can send a list of peepull who might take her in. I heard the orfaniges in Eurup are beter than hear. She is well behavd. You wont even notice if shes there._

_Send a leter back if you will. Them docters say if youll take her they will send her on a bote soon as they can. I relly hope your ok, Mr. Scamander._

_Danny loved you._

_Love,_

_Primrose griffiths_

Three weeks later, Daniella Griffiths-Scamander has a new home.

~*~

_This is the golden age of something_

_Good and right and real_

**Author's Note:**

> I’m being frustratingly vague — who is Sophia’s husband? Where is Theseus’s home in 1943? Who does he adopt Daniella with? — and for that I am kind of not sorry. Gotta keep up the intrigue, you know. But I will say he’s married by 1943.
> 
> Also I’m crying because he loves her a lot and it hurts.
> 
> I hope you enjoy and you felt all the feelings. I'm going to post a proper Newtina thing too, which will actually interest people, but this was just asking to be written and posted.
> 
> P.S. I usually post a chapter/fic/whatever and immediately begin editing it because I don't catch things until it's actually posted. But I always wonder if there's an early squad that sees my draft before I make (usually small) edits :P


End file.
